Badges of Distinction

Evocative head badges were once essential parts of bike design, setting brands apart and capturing imaginations. Here's a look at the unique stories badges can tell, whether they're antiques prized by collectors or the modern creations of today's best builders.

By the dawn of the 1900s, the bicycle market was choking on its own success. At that time, there were hundreds—some say thousands—of bike companies in the U.S. alone. While the cycling phenomenon was a relatively new worldwide craze, the intense competition between bicycle retailers, manufacturers, wholesalers, and distributors in the American market meant the bar for products was constantly rising—and that brands were becoming ever more valuable. As a result, the American Bicycle Company (ABC) was formed as a trust (this was before the days of Taft-Hartley Act) in a desperate effort to control competition, supply, and prices. When ABC eventually failed, the companies left standing swallowed up thousands of bicycle brands. Pope Manufacturing (America's first large bicycle maker) and Schwinn had acquired close to a thousand bicycle brands just between them, and needed to distinguish each one, leading to an explosion of head badges in this market. The upshot of all this competition for recognition was essentially what collectors refer to today as the bicycle head badge.

Today, people usually make the mistake of looking at a name on a vintage bicycle badge and concluding that the name was the actual manufacturer, or that the name contains a deep meaning. But most often these two conclusions are dead wrong. To better understand the history of bicycle head badges, it is necessary to understand how the bicycle market developed and why brand names evolved as they did. It all comes down to retail marketing.

Head badges began as a way for a manufacturer to identify their products, and sometimes to set models apart. But, eventually, these brand badges were raised to a high art, particularly in the United States. Badges included imaginative names, themes, elaborate designs, and techniques. Some were pressed or acid-etched metal (brass, copper, aluminum, zinc, stainless steel, silver, even gold). Some included precious stones like diamonds or rubies. Some were molded plastic. Some were mere water transfer decals. Some were beautiful inlayed cloisonné. Some were celluloid. Some—particularly during World War II, when there were restrictions on metal—were merely painted on. Like the high art on the covers of many historical bicycle catalogues, head badges took on their own persona. They inspired fanciful dreams and auras.

One thing became obvious in the American bicycle business: When it came to marketing, no one wanted to toss out a perfectly good brand with a matching reputation and loyal customers. So, the various manufacturers, distributors, and wholesalers continued to use names that no longer had a parent manufacturer. The practice snowballed in the 1920s and 1930s, when most of the market was aimed at youngsters. With an imaginative badge, you weren't merely riding a bicycle any longer. You were piloting a Zephyr or a Whirlwind, or commanding a Silver King. You were a cowboy, or a space ranger, or a Disney character. Before long, there were thousands and thousands of bicycle brand names.

Sadly, with few exceptions for the Asian and European markets, the heyday of the head badge ended by the close of the 1970s. Today, the once-mighty bicycle head badge is commonly reduced to a basic decal or Mylar sticker. But the old originals are once again prized. They now live on in collections–even if no longer attached to the wonderful machines that they once so proudly announced.

Cielo, Moots, and Rivendell

Clockwise from top:
Chris King's Cielo brand was established in 1978, but was dormant from 1982 to 2008, when it was revived for that year's North American Handmade Bicycle Show in Portland, Oregon.

Moots founder Kent Erickson's toy alligator was jabbed in the head by bullies on a school bus. Post-trauma, the toy made a noise that sounded like "moots" when squeezed. He named the toy for the noise, and later made it the subject of a comic strip in a school newspaper. The brand was founded in 1981, with Mr. Moots gracing each frame.

Grant Petersen's Rivendell Bicycle Works was established in 1994.

Ben Hur Bicycle Company

Indiana-based Central Cycle Manufacturing Company sold its Ben Hur model around 1896. The chariot scene the badge depicts is the same one seen in the 1959 movie of the same name.

The Breezer

Joe Breeze modeled the outline of his badge after that of the Schwinn Excelsior, a top-quality balloon-tire bike in the 1930s and '40s, and a popular off-road choice before the advent of bikes built specifically for mountain biking. Mt. Tamalpais, in Marin County, California, was a hotbed of early trail riding. The badge depicts Breeze's first off-road ride, in 1973, down the route of the old Mt. Tamalpais and Muir Woods Scenic Railway. Details include Double-Bow Knot, Roller Coaster Ridge, and redwoods.

Chief, Viking, Gios, and Schwinn

Clockwise from top:
The Chief three-speed motor bike was made by the Davis Sewing Machine Company—an early ancestor of Huffy—around 1915. It was sold by Sears.

Viking, a British brand founded in 1908, mounted this badge on its lightweight road bike in the 1970s.

Classic Italian brand Gios, founded in 1948, used this badge around 1975 and has since changed designs.

Over the years, Schwinn has created a variety of badges, like this one from 1948, on its Autocycle model. These badges are among the most eagerly sought by collectors.

Leon Dixon is curator of the National Bicycle History Archive of America. Learn more at NBHAA.com.

Jim Langley is a journalist, mechanic, collector of antique cycling memorabilia, and a former BICYCLING editor.